Sacrifice
by Childhood Aspirations
Summary: She was so young...so young to die. He wasn't going to let her die. Not like this. Not at the whim of a madman. Not when he could save her. LoganxRogue crackpairing TWOPARTER
1. Part One

**Sacrifice**

_By Childhood Aspirations _

Disclaimer: I do not own _X-Men_ (the movie or comic). It belongs to people with significantly more imagination than me.

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**Part One**

She was just sitting there, motionless, her head hanging backwards limply.

He flinched as he pulled her hands off the pedestals, gathering her in his arms. The wind tugged at her hair, and he fingered the long white lock that had appeared there.

"Come on," he whispered urgently. _Please, please. Wake up. _

But she didn't wake up. She didn't move. She didn't open her eyes, those large, dark brown eyes.

Impulsively, he yanked off his glove. His hand was shaking as it hovered over her forehead. He knew what she could do to him, what she _would _do to him.

But he didn't care.

His hand pressed against her skin, and he closed his eyes tightly, waiting for that sensation. The feeling of his life being sucked away.

It didn't come.

His eyes opened; he felt her forehead frantically. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't.

His head dropped forward onto his chest as soft, ragged sobs took him, tearing from his throat in emotion.

Rogue… 

Logan wrapped the girl in a tight embrace, tucking her head under his neck, and wished that this nightmare would end.

_Come on, kid. You can't be dead. You have to wake up. Rogue, wake up! _

And then he felt it.

A chill snaked around his spine; his breath caught, frozen in his throat. His eyes widened.

_Life. _

He could feel her, drawing from him, draining him. She was alive.

Gashes reopened on his forehead; his self-inflicted stab wounds oozed blood. He gasped.

Rogue jerked in his arms, giving a gasp of her own.

She was pulling away, and he was falling, and then…

…There was darkness.

_She's alive. _


	2. Part Two

A/N- Well, this fic was supposed to be a oneshot, but I liked it so much that I've added a part two. Yay! Of course, this chap. is completely fictional, seeing as it never happened in the movie... Hope y'all enjoy it!

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**Part Two**

_Sounds and sights flashed before her. The determination on Magneto's face when he touched her skin. The sound of her own wailing scream, shrill and desperate. The pain…and relief… in Logan's eyes as he released her and fell backwards, unconscious- _

Rogue came awake with a violent start, her breath catching. It was a moment before she remembered where she was, remembered what had happened.

A nightmare…

She rolled over in her bed, restless. She hadn't slept well since the Liberty Island incident, but the Professor said it was nothing to worry about; he said it would get better in a few days.

He said it was normal.

_Normal._

She stared at the ceiling, releasing a frustrated breath. _Normal._ _It's not normal to have this ability. It's not normal to be forced to help a madman mutate the world. It's not normal. I'm not normal. _

_None of us are normal… _

Shaking her head in resignation, Rogue threw back the sheets and climbed out of bed, rubbing her eyes. There would be no sleep for her tonight.

The rest of the school was silent as Rogue made her way down the staircase. A drink of water from the kitchen did little to satisfy her restlessness, so she walked the halls, meandering aimlessly.

She could hear the gentle breathing of the students in their rooms, inhaling and exhaling in a unified chorus, a symbol of quiet and peace.

…But not for her.

Her feet carried her to the back of school, to the veranda. It wasn't until she had already opened the French doors and slipped out that she caught sight of that familiar figure.

He stood there, his elbows resting on the railing, bare-chested and clad only in a pair of jeans, his dark brown hair standing out against the deep sapphire of the night sky.

At the sound of the door opening behind him, he whirled around. The silver blades that emerged from between his knuckles gleamed in the moonlight.

Rogue froze for a moment, her heart in her throat. Logan stared at her for a moment and allowed the blades to vanish.

"Rogue," he said heavily. There was a pause, and then he turned away from her. "Still can't sleep?"

It was a rhetorical question, of course. There was something she had to say.

She swallowed. "What you did for me, it was- I mean, I can't tell you-"

Suddenly he was standing there, right in front of her, his dark eyes staring into hers. Whatever she had been trying say evaporated from her mind as she inhaled the scent of him: warm and earthy with a faint, sharp tang of fierce wildness.

Logan smiled faintly. "Don't mention it, kid."

Rogue wished her mouth wasn't so dry. He said not to mention it, but she couldn't just let it go without thanking him for what he'd done. "You saved my life, Logan." Her face was turning red; she could feel it. "Thank you."

The smile faded as he reached out and fingered her single lock of white hair. "Now we're even," he whispered, shifting closer to her. Rogue stared up at him, her heart pounding heavily.

His lips brushed against hers, sending chills down her spine. The softest kiss, feather-light and gentle, yet it made her head spin.

Logan drew away, wearing a small smirk, but he wasn't mocking her. "Sleep tight, Rogue," he murmured. She gave a dazed nod and headed inside, but then she stopped.

Rogue turned to face him in the doorway, the moon illuminating her features. She smiled, a real smile, the first he had seen in weeks.

"Goodnight, Logan," she whispered before slipping through the door and leaving him alone.

Peaceful, dreamless sleep occupied the rest of Rogue's night.


End file.
